


Destiny

by Vacantuser



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Not Happy, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2020-08-20 04:00:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20221435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vacantuser/pseuds/Vacantuser
Summary: When Danny is depressed, who will help him? Sam and Tucker are dead and Jazz is in college, so they're out of the question. His parents just want to rip one half of him apart molecule by molecule, so they're out, too. I guess Mr. Lancer will have to take the job! Danny/ Lancer friendship.OrLancer cares about his student's mental health





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have almost all of this written already, it was originally posted on fanfiction. This is the rewritten one, so if you find it on Fanfiction, know that this one has more details, less spelling errors, and flows better. This will also be updated as a finish fixing the chapters as where on Fanfiction it will only be updated once the final chapter is complete.
> 
> Warning: Depression

Lancer

Destiny. It is our future. It is set in stone, or is it? I have changed my destiny before. I am in control of my future, aren't I? Or is every decision that I make already planned out for me? Am I just traveling a path already laid out for me, or am I making my own path? Are we ever going to figure out this great mystery of life? It definitely wouldn't be easy since you don't even know in your afterlife. Could someone else figure this out for you? If they could, they would truly be something. How can someone else figure this out of you can't even figure it out yourself? Destiny. It's truly a mystery. One that we might never figure out. Destiny. What does that even mean? Does it even mean anything if it can't be proven as true? Destiny. It's the biggest mystery of them all.

I look up at my student sleeping in his desk. If only he could try this hard on his regular assignments and not just the extra credit work that I give to him in detention every day. Danny suddenly sits up in his seat so fast that it takes me a minute to process what just happened. His icy-blue eyes bare into me as though he is looking through me, and they might be with how spaced out he looks.

"Did I get the extra credit points?" He asks after a minute of uncomfortable staring.

"Yes, you did a fine job on it, Mr. Fenton," I say after processing what he just said. He's been acting very odd these last few months. While I know the reason why I still can't fully understand it. It's tragic when your friends die, I understood that and I understood acting off would be part of the healing process, but there seemed to be something else going on that was hidden from prying eyes like my own. Like he was dealing with something else on top of it.

"Can I go now?" Why is he always in such a hurry?

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Fenton."

"Mr. Lancer?" I thought that he wanted to leave.

"Yes?"

"You can call me Danny." He leaves after saying that and I allow myself to smile before grading papers. That boy had a heck of destiny in front of him if he keeps making the choices that he has been making recently.

The next day during class, I look over at Mr.- no, Danny. If I don't try to remember to call him Danny, then I never will. He has bags under his eyes, his hair is messier then it used to be and it has long since lost it's shine after he lost his 'soul' as he puts it, he has gotten thinner over the months, and he's gotten paler, he has a bruise on his cheek, and a small amount of blood on the front of his shirt fading into the red collar, the black long sleeve shirt that he started wearing after the tragedy had holes in it. In short, he looks like Death came up and kicked his ass. He claims to have changed his destiny, but as he said in his paper the other day, he really doesn't know. Were Sam and Tucker supposed to die that tragic night? We will never know. Jazz moved to a great college states away, so he is now all alone in terms of people his age he was seen hanging out with. I wish that he would either come to me or his parents for help, but he doesn't. He only talks to me and only after school about his extra credit assignments. I have long forgotten what the shine in his eyes looked like when he was with them. I can't help but feel pity for the poor boy. I wanted to see my happy, full of life student again.

"Mr. Lancer," I hear Mickey ask, forcefully dragging me from my thoughts. I look down at the boy in the front row, his hand raised high.

"Yes, Mickey?" I ask.

"The bell rang to start class." It did? I've never missed it before.

"Today's lesson will to either read a book or take a nap." I hate seeing Danny like this. At least now he can rest and maybe that will help him. I know it won't, depression can't be fixed with a nap, but I hope it can help ease his pain even if only slightly. I can't help but notice everyone's shocked expression at today's lesson plan. "I need to grade papers, " I explained as I sat down and started grading papers. It's peaceful and I pay very little attention to the gossip and whispers quietly filling the classroom, but ten minutes later they all die down when what sounds like a scream of fear and pain mixed together fills the classroom, seeming to bounce off the walls and come back ten times louder its almost deafening. I immediately look at Danny and see that he must be having a nightmare or something, made obvious by the panicked breathing and sweat dripping down his hair. I practically run over to him and lightly shake his shoulder to stir him from his painful dream. He launches up in his seat and screams in agony, his body shaking with enough force to move his desk several inches in what seems like every direction at once, almost tipping it over. I instantly pull my hand away from his shoulder as he looks around to gather his bearings, looking relieved to find that it's only my classroom.

"What a freak," I hear Paulina whisper and I know that Danny heard it too. Why can't they just leave Danny alone? Don't they know that he's in enough pain as it is? He looks up at me with those depressed icy blue eyes of his. The look in his eyes seems to be begging me for help. I wanted to scold at the class, yell at them for belittling someone who's clearly struggling, but I bite my tongue. If I said anything, it would be something that would end my career.

"Danny, can you stay after class? I will write you a tardy pass for your next class." He shakes his head, yes and I walk back over to my desk, silently hoping I was seeing things when I saw fear briefly flash over his dead eyes. I keep my eye on the depressed boy in the back corner of my classroom for the rest of the period. He doesn't move, but he seems too scared to go back to sleep, so he just sits there in silence. As soon as the bell rings and everyone else has left, he slowly picks his stuff up and walks over to the front desk that Aaron had been occupying just a few moments ago. "Danny, how did you get that bruise on your cheek?" I should probably start off with something small before asking him about his nightmare as to not make him nervous. I won't be able to help him if he fully shuts down, which is probably the next step for his depression and would undoubtedly happen if he didn't get help. After that would likely be suicide making this the last time he'll be able to get helped, but it's been progressing rapidly and I didn't know how long he would be able to force to keep doing basic things like showering or coming to school.

"I got into a fight," he whispers so low that I can barely hear him. He sounded embarrassed and ashamed, but also afraid. His body was tense and while his head was down, I could feel him staring me down through his bangs like I would leap over my desk and attack him at any moment. He was losing any trust he had towards me and I didn't know why. He was slipping out of my grasp before I could pull him out of the darkness.

"With who?" If it was an authority figure, then his distrust in me would make sense. If one adult that he looked to for guidance would hit him, what would stop another from doing the same? If it was a student, he might feel guilty that they would get detention if he told me, or that they would beat him up again in anger.

"No one that you know." His tone didn't help me figure out which one it was, fear at me or fear at someone else. In fact, his tone was as empty as his eyes. He was starting to shut down already. Most teachers would have given up by now and left him be, but I'm not like most teachers. I became a teacher to help students and the student standing before me definitely needed help. I should stop interrogating him before he pulls away completely, but I had to know he was safe before I sent him off.

"Is that blood on your shirt?" He looks down at it and I hear a small 'huh' escape his throat, but he doesn't seem very surprised by it. He probably didn't know it was there but knew that he had been bleeding enough for it to have gotten there.

"Yeah." He looked off to the side and I followed his gaze to see if he was looking at a door or window that a student could be hiding behind, eavesdropping in our conversation to see if he threw them under the bus, but he only looks at the wall by the bookshelf.

"What happened?"

"The fight." He really does not want to talk today.

"What was your nightmare about?" He gets up and walks out of the classroom without another word and I don't even try to stop him. I will never get through to him if I push him too hard. I see you fading, Danny. I'll grab your hand and keep you here for as long as I can.


	2. Detention and a Walk Home

I dont bring his nightmare up in the detention that he had managed to get at some point of the day. Instead, I just give him his assignment and wonder about how I can help this poor, depressed child in need of help, but obviously too afraid to ask for said help. I can start with the obvious dehydration and hunger by giving him some water and a snack and his lack of sleep by setting aside some time in class for free time, but I fear that that is all that he would allow me to do at the moment. He doesn't quite trust me as much as I would like him to. He sees me as a teacher and not as a friend, and that just might be his downfall into endless depression. I can already tell that he's shut down even more since this morning. I wish I could pull him closer to the light and out of the dark, empty pit of depression, but with every minute that ticks by, my grasp on him slips. Soon he'll be falling and there will be no hope of him getting caught again.

"Danny, do you want some water?" I ask, holding out a water bottle for him.

"No thank you, Mr. Lancer. Thanks for the offer, though," he replies, not looking up from his assignment. I guess he won't even let me do that small amount for him.

"Danny, forget about that assignment. I'm giving you a new one." Now he looks up, frustration flashing in his eyes for a fraction of a second. I'm just glad to see some emotion in them.

"But I'm in the middle of this one." His voice actually has a hint of emotion in it now, it carries a sense of betrayal and hurt, but only a sliver of it. A ripple of negative is much better than a tsunami of nothing.

"I know. Your new assignment is to have a little snack and some water and to tell me what is troubling you." I need to help this young adult, even if I have to turn it into an extra credit assignment. I know forcing him to do this might push him farther away, but I won't let him slip out of my grasp. I'm sure I'll be able to sense when to back off before I push too hard. "The assignment you're working on now can be tomorrow's assignment." His body relaxes for a second before tensing again.

"You know what my problem is." His depressed icy-blue eyes seem to bore holes in my soul, screaming an endless wall of hate.

"I know, but it's more than that, isn't it? Someone is hurting you, aren't they?" I saw the bruise and blood. I saw his limp a week ago that he tried so hard to hide. I see the pain hiding in the nothingness in his eyes. There's something he isn't saying, something important.

"No, sir. No one has laid a hand on me other than that fight and this afternoon's fight with Dash." So that's how he got detention today. I'll have to have a talk with Dash later about being sensitive to grieving students and that he should back away if someone hurting is already upset with you. You never know what might break an already broken person. Like forcing them to take care of themselves like I'm doing. I sigh, at least I'm trying to help. It's more than what almost everyone else is doing for him.

"Why isn't Dash in detention if you were both fighting?" I sit on the desk in front of him and put my feet on the seat so that I am looking at him. I try my best to lower down to his level so it doesn't look like I'm looking down on him or trying to intimidate him, but my old back will only let me get so low.

"Because he's a jock and I'm a geek. Jocks get special treatment around here. Haven't you noticed, or are you blind as well as bald?" I ignore the insult only because I know that he's just being defensive and doesn't actually mean it. I guess I have noticed that the jocks get special treatment. I might have accidentally treated them like they were special in the past. It's easy to make the wrong decision in the heat of the moment. Still, it's no excuse. I've been trying to do better, but I often find out later that my snap judgment was wrong.

"I'll do what I can to make sure that the jocks get punished for their misbehavior starting today. I'll give Dash his detention tomorrow." Maybe I'll give Dash two days. He's three times Danny's size, a fight between the two simply isn't fair.

"But then I'll be a snitch. No one likes snitches." Ah, peer pressure is rearing his ugly head after all.

"At least have the water and snack then." I set a water bottle and crackers down on his desk. Despite looking at it skeptically for a moment, the water bottle is empty within seconds. It isn't long before the crackers are gone, too.

"Thank you, Mr. Lancer. Can I go now?" He asks, already starting to rise from his seat.

"Not yet. You have to wait until 3:30 before you can leave. You are allowed to nap, though." He drops back into his seat and lays his head down. This exposes another bruise on the back of his neck that looks like someone had pushed him by the base of his neck. Probably to get him to his knees. He probably has a lot more bruises hidden away under his clothing. Poor child. He has never hurt anybody, so who would be evil enough to hurt him? I can only hope that it isn't his parents or someone he trusts. When it starts near the end of detention, I walk over to Danny and softly tap him so that I don't hurt the poor boy so that he can get his stuff together in time to leave.

"Hmm?" He groans as he stretches his limbs out. He seemed somewhat out of it likely due to not being fully awake. His eyes were unfocused and he was slouched over more than usual.

"It's almost 3:30. You may pack up and leave if you wish." He wastes no time in throwing his notebook and pencil into his bag before leaving, unaware that I am following him. I keep some distance between us, of course. Although in his current state, I didn't doubt that he wouldn't notice my presence even if I was directly behind him.

He drags his feet and stares at the ground. He no longer walks with a purpose. His strides were slow and I had to stop multiple times so that I wouldn't get too close. Eventually, he walks up to the steps and into his house. I hear what sounds like a loud slap right before the door closes followed by yelling. What is going on in there? I walk over to a window in time to see Danny fall to the floor. He already has a bruise on his cheek and a bloody nose. I need to get him to talk to me and soon because I can't see the abuser and I can't let this go on for much longer. Since there's nothing I can do at the moment and I can't bear to see Danny get beaten any more, I leave. Now I must save this boy from two things: suicide and the abuser. I won't let him die.

The next day, first period:

"Take out your books and read chapter two. You may listen to music as you read it," I address the entire class, but I'm looking at Danny. I can see the bruise on his face and the ones from yesterday, and I know that there are a lot more than he keeps hidden under his white and red hoodie. He notices my gaze and turns his book to the right page and takes out his black and green headphones before blasting music in his ears and reading the chapter. I then turn my gaze to the other students. Dash' s group is talking and texting instead of working on the assignment, Mickey' s group is one hundred percent focused on the assignment, and everyone else is either zoned out, listening to music and doing the assignment, or doodling. I look back at Dash' s group and eavesdrop on them. I don't want to hear them say anything negative about Danny since he probably can't take to much more bull shit. I'm so angry, they I've actually gone to cussing and I never cuss. I guess I just don't want to see a good student fall farther than he already has. I don't want to see him get pushed to the point of suicide. I sit at my desk and pretend to grade papers as I listen to Paulina and her gang talk about some party that will be held at Dash' s house sometime later this week.

Later that day in detention:

"Your assignment is to write down what you did last night," I say. I know that he will lie to protect his abuser because he's afraid, he must be afraid since he didn't go to anyone for help, but I still need to give him an assignment so that he had a chance to boost his grade which desperately needs to be raised. That's why I've been giving him so simple assignments; I don't want him to fail. That would only add to his problem. I look over his shoulder and confirm that he lied. On his paper, he says that he went to the park before going home and doing his homework. I walk over to my desk without bothering to read the rest of his lies. I wish that he would just come to me for help, but I can't rush him and I can't force him to, so I have to wait. I also can't help him get away from whoever is hurting him unless I knew who it was. Now that ghosts have been popping up, domestic abuse and assault investigative procedures have changed. Unless someone saw it happen, it would more than likely be blamed on a ghost. That would especially be the case in the Fenton household. There were so many ghosts there and everyone knew it. Its where the portal resides after all. Danny looks up at me after an hour and holds his paper up to signify that he has finished the assignment. Surely I haven't been thinking for an hour. I can't argue against the clock, it clearly signifies that an hour has indeed passed.

"I'm fine," he repeats the same lie he probably tells himself every day, the same lie he parrots to anyone who asks. Why would he be saying it prompted if he was? Didn't he know he was giving himself up by doing that? Was this his way of asking for help?

"You can put it on my desk. There are thirty more minutes until you can leave, so you can take a nap or do your homework." After the bell rings three-thirty, he gathers his stuff up and trudges into the hallway, almost walking on his jeans, but it's rolled up so that he just barely doesn't. He's become somewhat of a slob. I get why, but I would rather him be perky and happy again and act like he has a reason to live. I can't stand this new, no energy Danny that the world has created through tragedy and destruction. The world can be so cruel to people and society certainly doesn't help in the slightest.


	3. Kwan and Star joins the party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fixed this one up quickly, so I apologize in advance for any mistake that slipped through. Run-ons appear to have been a big issue when I originally wrote this. I also didn't add as much detail as I did to the previous chapters, so I apologize if it feels rushed. I'll take more time on the next one, I just wanted to post this before I got distracted with homework.

I didn't follow him yesterday afternoon. I am beginning to think that that was a mistake because he comes in with fresh bruises and a busted lip and he seems to have a little bit of trouble moving his shoulders. He lays his head down as soon as he sits down. The bell rings a few minutes later and I turn the video on so that all I have to do is hit play, though the only people that know that I'm about to play a video is the 'geeky' kids.

"Turn your attention to the board," I say and I get greeted by several groans. "I am going to play a movie and there will be questions afterward, so please pay attention." It's on the subject that we are on and the questions are easy, so this is actually a time waster even if it has a grade attached to it. I sit at my desk and tune out the Romeo and Juliet video as I finish grading the papers that have somehow taken days to do. I keep glancing up from the papers to look at Danny, who fell asleep almost as soon as I hit play. I hand the papers to his row last because I don't want to wake the poor boy up. He looks flustered until he reads the questions and realizes that it's the same paper that he did for extra credit a few weeks ago when we were working on grammar in Shakespeare's time. He ends up being the first one to finish and I even have enough time to go ahead and grade it; I smile proudly at the ninety-five plastered in his paper in red ink. He only missed one. At least this grade won't upset him or make anything worse. Aaron sets his paper down and interrupts my thoughts.

Later in tutoring:

He managed to avoid getting a detention today, yet he walks into the room anyway, but this time Paulina, Star, and Kwan are joining him since I caught Paulina cheating on a test and Star and Kwan was running down the halls, yelling. It was almost like Star and Kwan wanted detention. It was certainly odd, but I didn't have the energy to question it right now. All of my energy lately has been funneled into helping Danny.

"Danny, your assignment is to write about your school day. Everyone else can read," I say.

"Why do you want Danny to do an assignment and not us?" Kwan asks.

"Because he's in here for extra credit assignments and you're in here for detention," I explain. Danny raises his hand after a few minutes of frantically searching his pockets and bag. "Yes, Danny?"

"I forgot my pencil in my locker," he says and two of the three 'A-Listers', as they're called, gawk at him since this is the first time they have heard him talk since the accident that stole his friend's lives.

"Here," I hand him a pencil that was lying on my desk. I look over his shoulder as he writes and sees that most of it say 'there was a test in so and so' s class that was boring and hard'. "Danny, you're saying the same thing more than once. Try to word it differently." He glances at me before taking another piece of paper and starting over. He bends over it so that I can't see what he's writing, so I go back to my desk. I glance up at Danny and am shocked that I'm not the only one that gives him worried glances.

Kwan' s point of view:

I can't believe that Dash beat Danny up even though Danny was already hurt. Something is going on, and Dash might end up pushing Danny to far. Star was the one to notice that Danny was hurt, she even told Dash, but he didn't care. He doesn't care about anyone but himself, same with Paulina. She didn't even know our plan to get a detention so that we can follow Danny home to see what's up. Just to make sure we aren't making a bad situation worse.

Lancer' s point of view:

Danny raises his paper in the air and I collect it. It says the same thing, but he worded it differently, just as I asked him to do. I really wasn't expecting him to use curse words, though.

Danny's point of view:

I'll join you soon, guys. I won't be half ghost for too much longer. I'll keep saying that I'm fine so that everyone will just leave me alone, but they can fuck off. They don't know what it's like to lose your friends and be all alone. They haven't been beaten by someone that they were supposed to be able to trust. I move my shoulders slightly and the pain reminds me of the gash marks that he made when he whipped me with an old rope. He's gone crazy and now I'm ready to die. I won't let anyone stand in my way. I can feel my demons rising in my body, ready to snatch me under and take control. Demons caused by memories that I can't forget no matter how hard I try to. Memories of the people that I loved and of the people that I hurt. Memories of tear-stained faces.

Kwan's point of view:

We follow Danny to the park and watch him pull something out of his pockets. We don't realize that he's smoking until the smoke hits us simply because we didn't want to believe that he brought a lighter and cigarettes to school.

"Why are you two following Danny?" I jump at the sound of Mr. Lancer' s voice.

"We could ask you the same question," I say.

"I'm trying to help him." Does he think that Star and I are going to hurt Danny?

"We're trying to help him, too," Star whispers.

"Yeah, we wouldn't hurt him. We never wanted to hurt him in the first place, and now he's depressed. We don't want him to kill himself," I say.

"He's being abused at home. I can't let you two get hurt because you're trying to help him," Mr. Lancer says after debating whether to tell us this our not for five minutes.

"We won't get hurt. And even if we do, it'll be worth it to help Danny. We owe it to him after all the times that we bullied him." Mr. Lancer doesn't get the chance answer because I'm pushed to the ground and Danny is glaring at us.

"Why are you following me? I don't like being followed! You can't follow me!" He yells in hysteria.

"Danny, calm down," Mr. Lancer says in a calm, soothing voice.

"I can't calm down! You're gonna get hurt! You're gonna hurt me!" It's only then that I notice the bottle of Vodka in his hands. He's drunk, or at least he's trying to be. It shouldn't have kicked in yet. Unless he's been drinking it since before we got to the park.

"Danny, we are not going to hurt you." We let Mr. Lancer do all of the talking since Danny doesn't like or trust us. Danny stumbles and trips over me since I haven't gotten up yet. He stumbles to his feet after I stand up and then he starts swinging his bottle at us. He must have taken a drug with his vodka. A drug definitely could have kicked in by now even if the vodka didn't. After a few minutes, he falls to the ground and starts sobbing.

"I just want to be left alone!" He sobs and Mr. Lancer rubs his back.

"Let's take a walk, Danny. Do you want to take a walk?" He asks and Danny looks up at him.

"Where?" He mutters, looking up at Mr. Lancer.

"Somewhere safe." He helps Danny to his feet.

"Ok," Danny whispers.

Ten minutes later, Star's point of view:

Mr. Lancer keeps Danny from falling since he's still stumbling around quite a bit. We arrive at a house not too much later. A smallish house I've never been to before. It looked nice. Is it Lancer's? Is this even allowed?

"Who's a house is this?" Kwan asks. Mr. Lancer simply pulls out some keys and opens the door. I thought that it was illegal for a teacher to bring students to their houses, but I guess he just wants to help Danny. We walk in and I see a well-furnished living room. Mr. Lancer gets Danny to sit on the couch.

"Make yourselves comfortable." Danny kicks his shoes off and lays down. That was kind of rude, but I'll give him a break this time. He's pretty messed up right now. Kwan and I sit down on a love seat and Mr. Lancer leaves the room. I soon hear the sound of pots moving around. He must be about to cook something. We watch Danny as he struggles to keep his eyes open. It looked like a peaceful slumber, so we left him alone. I move closer so I can watch his breathing just in case he's passing out from a bad effect from the drugs or alcohol. Thirty minutes later Mr. Lancer comes in with a big bowl of something.

"Where am I?" Danny mutters, sitting up. I guess he's come down from whatever drug he was on. I wasn't sure what drug would wear off so quickly, but I'm also not really into drugs.

"My house."

"What time is it?"

"Almost five," this time Kwan answers instead of Mr. Lancer. Danny jumps up.

"I'm so dead!" Mr. Lancer grabs his arm before he can run out of the house.

"I'm not going to let you go home just so that you can get beaten. I'll let you leave after you have had something to eat and drink. Vodka does not count as the drink."

"How do you know about that!" Danny screams, but it's hardly a question. I'm sure he wanted the answer, he just seemed a little out of it still.

"I followed you a few days ago."

Danny hits the table before exclaiming, "Dahm!" He moves his hand to hold his head. "I'm sorry. It's just..." He trails off and sighs.

"It's fine. Please, take a seat and feel free to take your jacket off."

"You'll freak out when you see what he carved into my arms." Carved? What did he mean by that? What monster would carve something into someone's skin? That's so messed up!

"Who is he?" Mr. Lancer asks.

"I can't tell you that. You'll report him. You can't report him. He'll kill them."

"Ok. I won't report him."

"I don't believe you."

"Ok. I don't have to know who is hurting you. Just please take a seat." Danny gives in and sits down after a few minutes. How does Mr. Lancer know how to keep Danny so calm? Mr. Lancer leaves and comes back a few minutes later with bowls and silverware.

"You've noticed that Phantom hasn't been around recently, right?" Danny suddenly asks.

"Yeah," I say, not sure where he's going with this. He's probably just trying to start a conversation or something. He sighs and looks around at us.

"What do I have to lose anyway? Sam, Tucker, and Jazz used to help. Without them, I can't..." He trails off again. What is he even talking about? Is he delirious from the drug? Maybe it hasn't worn off yet. "I'll show you after we eat. I'm too weak right now."


	4. Hey, guess what? I'm Danny Freaking Phantom!

Danny's point of view:

Mr. Lancer gives us all a bowl of soup. Maybe if I tell them that I'm Phantom, they will stop following me long enough for me to commit suicide. God, I can't think straight. Mr. Lancer leaves the room and I notice Star and Kwan staring at me.

"What?" I ask, already halfway finished with my soup.

"What happened to you? I mean, I know that you got abused, but you closely resemble a skeleton," Star announces.

"It's part of my punishment. I don't get anything to eat and I get locked up in the old lab that no one has fixed since the accident. The one that killed not only Sam and Tucker but my mother and Jazz as well. It left me with several scars since I was walking down the stairs when it happened. I didn't want any pity, so I told everyone at school that mom went to a science convention and Jazz went to college since that's where they were supposed to be when it happened. It killed me on the inside and turned him into a monster. It's really bad down there cause we couldn't get the blood off of the walls. We asked that it be kept silent for my sake, but I just didn't want everyone reminding me about it by saying how sorry they are for me," I say, reliving the tragic incident in my mind as I remember every gruesome detail. Sam screaming my name, mom yelling at everyone to get out, how dad had pushed me to get out of the lab, he made it but blames everyone's death on me. He partly blames himself as well, it was his experiment. The truth is it was no one's fault, not really. It was just an accident that could have been avoided but wasn't.

"I'm so sorry," I hear Mr. Lancer say from next to me. I try to not jump in surprise. When did he return?

"I relive it every time I close my eyes. That's what my nightmare was. I can't go back to face my dad again. I can't take another beating. I can't take being locked up in the lab again. I can't take it anymore!"

Star's point of view:

I watch as the poor boy curls up into a ball and starts sobbing. Every time a sob escapes his throat, a violent shake erupts his body. Mr. Lancer awkwardly tries to calm him down, but I can tell that this will be in vain. Danny is probably reliving it in his mind and we are helpless to snap him out of it. We grab blankets and lay them over his shoulders. It was all we could think to do besides being here next to him. After about an hour, Danny calms down and completely downs water that Mr. Lancer had brought in here with him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want anyone to see me like this," Danny says, wiping the tears off of his face. His eyes were red and his face looked slightly swollen. I wasn't sure if it actually was or if it was just his change of complexion.

"Don't be ashamed. You're showing how much you care for your friends and family," Kwan says. I guess Danny hearing that comes from an A-Lister makes him feel less embarrassed about it because he smiles Kwan.

"You're right, I care very much for my family because Sam and Tucker are like my family and my dad isn't." He smiles proudly as though this is the best thing in the world.

"They may not be able to be there for you anymore, but we are here for you," Mr. Lancer says.

"Thank you," Danny mutters. "But I don't need your help."

"Really? Because from I've heard, you've been caught in an explosion, lost everyone that you cared about, you're being beaten, you're almost a skeleton. It sounds like you need a lot of help." That was cold, but it seems to have worked because Danny wraps his arms around me since I was closer to him. Something inside him broke and the walls he built starts to crumble.

"You're right! I need help!" Danny cries into my shoulder.

"Take your hoodie off and show us what you were going to show us earlier," Mr. Lancer suggests in a soothing yet slightly demanding tone. Danny hesitantly removes his hoodie and shows several gruesome scars and I can see where his dad cut him with a blade, or maybe it's self-inflicted.

"I'm..."

Danny's point of view:

"Just so happy that I have people that care about me. I thought that I was all alone," I lie.

"We'll always be here for you," Star says.

"What about the A-List?"

"Fuck the A-List! They aren't are real friends. We don't even like them!" Kwan exclaims and I fake a laugh. I take a deep breath and let the rings of light flash over me, my catchphrase was long forgotten. I let it die with my friends. I close my eyes as the light flashes over my face and I keep them closed so I don't have to look anyone in the eyes as I stand before them as Phantom. I hear their gasps and let my ghostly form slip away. Just holding it for that long when I'm this weak has me gasping for air.

"You were all willing to help me even though you didn't know I was Phantom. I don't get it. Why would you ever care so much about loser Danny Fenton?" I feel a hand on my shoulder and I finally dare to open my eyes. Glancing up at Star's smiling face forces a familiar feeling into my chest. Familiar yet forgotten. When was the last time I felt this? I couldn't even place what the feeling was nor what it was connected to. What made me feel this last?

"You are a human being. As humans, we have to have compassion for each other. Whether one of us is dead or not, we're still people and everyone deserves to have someone standing in their corner."

"Yeah, dude. We have your back no matter what. We can't stand to see you so broken. It isn't right to just stand by if we can do something to help. You used to stand up against Dash to keep other kids from getting hurt. When you did that, it was as Fenton. Phantom might keep Amity safe, but Fenton gives people hope. If someone like Danny Fenton is willing to step up to help people, then everyone should."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, referring to the last sentence.

"I mean everyone thinks you're weaker than Dash. You've never thrown a punch at him, so it was constantly a weak-looking kid placing himself between another weak-looking kid and a jock. It was inspiring to the nerds, you could see it in their eyes. Now that you've stopped doing it, Mickey and Nathan have taken your place as the nerds' guardian angels." When did that happen? I mean, maybe there was a time or two when I saw a ness of orange slip between Dash and me, but I always thought he got pushed over. His glasses broke when he took that hit and I just watched as he struggled to find the pieces. He took a hit for me and I refused to help him in return. I'm no hero, not anymore.

"I'm going to report your father since you've calmed down," Mr. Lancer states, moving to find a phone.

"You can't do that!" I yell, jumping over the couch and into his path.

"Why not?"

"He'll kill me!" I don't want my dad to kill me only because I want to choose how I die. I won't give him the satisfaction of taking that from me.

"Aren't you already dead?" Kwan asks.

"Only halfway."

"I have to. Besides, he can't hurt you here." I feel rage boil inside of me. Somewhere along the way it twists and morphs into fear and desperation.

Mr. Lancer' s point of view:

"Yes, he can! He's crazy! He'll do whatever it takes to kill me if I bring him down!" Tears start streaming down poor Danny's face. He looks at the ground and his breathing appears to be a forced calm. I think he's trying to ground himself before he snaps. We may have pushed him too far. We should let him rest.

"I'll make sure that he doesn't."

"How?" He looks up at me.

"I don't know. I just don't want him to hurt you again. You have so much potential."

"Thanks, but I don't want to put anyone in danger. I should probably go." He walks past me and grabs his hoodie. It was like he didn't want to believe anything we were saying. It was like he didn't want to believe we could help him, that we wanted to help him.

"I'm not letting you go home to a beating," I grab his wrist firmly, but not too tight. It still makes him since, so I loosen my grip scarcely.

"Just...just forget that I even said anything, ok?" He pulls his wrist away from me.

"No, not ok! You can't tell anyone that you're being abused and tell them to just forget about it! I already lost a student to abusive parents. I went to let it happen to you, too." Danny turns to look at me with a shocked look on his face.

"So that's why you care so much. I had no idea," he whispers.

"The other student didn't give me a chance to help her; you did and I'm going to help you. I don't want to watch another child waste away in front of me." He puts his hoodie back down and takes a seat on the couch.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asks.

"I won't report him yet, but I will have to eventually. Until then you can sleep at one of our houses."

"I don't think that I can sleep at your house."

"You can spend the night at my place," Kwan says.

"What about clothes?"

"I'm sure I can buy you a few pairs of jeans and some shirts," Star says.

"I don't want to cause any problems."

"It's fine. I'm rich, remember?"

"I know, but..."

"It's already decided," Star says.

"We will not speak of this at school and we will act as we usually do, ok?" Danny asks.

"Deal."

"Now can I have some vodka?" Danny asks. He had a joking tone in his voice, but I wasn't sure if he was actually joking or if he was dead serious. A small noise resembling a chuckle escapes his lips, but I'm still not convinced he's not serious.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not letting you get drunk. Especially not in my house."

"So, you're going to try to help me?" He sounded slightly annoyed now. His dim gazes flick between everyone in the room. His eyes looked paranoid despite how calm he was trying to appear.

"Yes." He's so far gone; it'll take forever to get him back to the way he once was. We're starting with that alcohol problem, though. He yawns and looks at Kwan.

"We should probably go. Thank you for the soup, Mr. Lancer," Kwan says as Danny puts his hoodie back on and Star stands up.

"Yeah, thanks," she says.

"My pleasure." They leave even before I finish my sentence. Well, Danny does. He probably felt anxious or insecure about what happened today.


	5. Chapter 5

Danny's point of view:

They decided to drag me to the store immediately after we left Mr. Lancer' s place, so now instead of sleeping, I'm forced to hear Star go on and on about how I should get faded jeans like I used to wear instead of black. It's harder to see blood in dark clothes. I'm surprised I didn't need this trick before now with all the beatings I got between the bullies and the ghosts. That's what I told her, and I now see the error of my ways. She can't shut up and is dragging unwanted attention to the A-Listers with Nerdy Fenton. It's their social life going down the drain, but this conversation could ruin me, too. I look around for Kwan to help me shut her up, but he isn't around. He must have run to the bathroom or just didn't feel like helping a loser shop.

"You won't be going home to that monster anymore," she says, earning the glance of a passerby. Luckily they were just rubbernecking and move on after a moment of silence. If she's going to grab attention like that, I might as well sway the topic to something I know won't gather an audience.

"Well, maybe it matches my soul," I deadpan. Ah, gothic culture. Thank you, Sam, for teaching me society gives negative fucks about angsty, gothic teens. A pang of sadness shatters through my chest at the thought of her.

"Then could you at least be getting a lighter colored shirt or hoodie?" I glare at her for a good five minutes before getting a shirt that looks like what I used to wear. I didn't think they still sold these.

"Happy?" I ask and she just rolls her eyes in response. That's a very Sam-like move. I know that I have got to keep my mind off of my friends until I can end myself, but all I can think about is Sam's amethyst eyes and pretty raven locks matched with that independent attitude of hers; I just can't stop thinking about her. Especially when I know that I will join her soon. I just have to get rid of what's in my way.

"Ok, so you now have six outfits. That should be ok, but are you sure that you don't want anymore?" Star asks.

"I'm fine." I didn't even want to go shopping in the first place. I mean, these people have been bullying me for as long as I can remember, so why do they suddenly care? Or is this some wicked game to make it easier for Dash to beat the shit out of me? They probably want me to feel safe around them and give me a false sense of security so that they can stab me in the back later. I guess I can play along for a little while. It's not like I'll be half alive long enough for them to try anything.

"Are you ok, Danny?" Kwan asks. I didn't hear him approaching. When did I get so weak and unalert? It seems I'm being snuck up on by everyone today. I used to be better than this.

"I'm fine." They can see through my lie. I see the concern still on their faces. I hate this. I hate how visible I suddenly am. Why won't they let me disappear? I want to be invisible again. I'm a nothing, a no-one.

"Are you sure cause you kind of zoned out for a minute there," Star pipes up, breaking the silence I let wash over us. I remember when she used to be so quiet. I guess it was just because Paulina was around.

"I'm just tired."

"We're just making sure because, well, you know," Star says. I don't know what she's talking about, but I just nod and pretend that I do. We pay, or rather they pay before we leave. Kwan walks Star home before leading me to a huge house even bigger than Mr. Lancer' s house. Heck, the size of this house rivals Sam's! Inside I see elegant furniture and a happy man and woman who I assume is Kwan's parents.

"Who is your little friend?" His mom asks, eyeing me as though I'm garbage.

"This is Danny Fenton. His parents are fighting and I said that he could spend the night until it blows over," Kwan says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as his mother moves her gaze to him. She obviously knows that he's lying. It's only a partial lie, it should totally count as the half truth it is.

"Tell the truth, Kwan."

"His father is abusive." Well, he's not very good at keeping secrets. His dad immediately goes to say something, but Kwan is quick to cut him off. "We can't report him, though! Not yet, at least." That seems to answer the unasked question and I feel of pang of forgotten emotion spiraling through my chest. I can tell Kwan is close to his family, like Tucker was with his despite the secrets I forced onto him. I want that. It's too late for it now. Despite my efforts to keep my emotions down, I feel a tear rolling down my face. I try to discretely wipe it away, but that's hard to do when everyone's eyes are on you.

His mother pulls me into a comforting embrace, one that I haven't felt in forever, before saying, "Stay as long as you need. You aren't alone. You'll always have a place in this home if you want it" I wonder if she broke her neck making that drastic of a change of attitude.

"Thank you, Ma'am."

"Stop embarrassing the poor boy," I hear Kwan' s dad say before his mother lets me go. "You two can go upstairs." Since they didn't tell me what I can call them, I guess I'm going with 'ma'am' and 'sir.' I might as well try to behave while I'm here. I don't really have any other choice. Besides, Kwan's mom reminds me so much of Jazz and mom and their comforting hugs whenever I got upset at anything.

"Sorry about that," Kwan mutters and I just shrug.

"It's fine."

"Are you going to say anything other than 'I'm fine' and 'it's fine?'"

"Nope." He opens a door to his left and I see a huge bed and fancy looking dressers in a gigantic room.

"This is the guest bedroom and the bathroom is right across the hallway." This is a guest room? It's the size of like ten of my rooms put together! He picks my bag up and walks in before putting my new clothes up even though I didn't ask him to. He leaves a pair of gym shorts and a white long sleeve shirt out for me.

"Thanks." I pick the shirt up and he leaves to let me get dressed. I get dressed, but I'm not quite ready to go to sleep. I need to clear my head, but I don't want to leave until everyone falls asleep. That way I don't have to worry about anyone noticing my absence. I don't want to make a scene out of it. It takes a few hours, but eventually, everyone else falls asleep. How early was it when we got here? Or is this a family of night owls? I decide I don't really care as I turn into Phantom before turning intangible and flying through the wall. I need to act as though I'm still ok, so I just go around at a safe distance from the ground. Well' safe for a half ghost. I'm above the buildings, but I can still see each one clearly. Nearly every building here holds a memory. Some of those memories are bad, but most of them are good. Unfortunately, those good memories leads to the worse memory. That night in the lab when they died. I'm not out for too long since I decided to not go to Sam, Jazz, or Tucker's favorite places and I know that I probably don't have too long to fly around before someone decides to check in on me like Jazz used to do. I wish I could see them again. I fly around Amity for a good two hours before going back to Kwan's s house and collapsing on the guest bed and changing back into Fenton as I drift off into a fitful rest. Nightmares and bad memories immediately take over my mind.  
I wake up to foreign surroundings, so I get into a fighting stance to take down whoever I have to. My surroundings are calm and quiet. A ghost hasn't come to bother in a long time. There's no danger here, it's not my house. Where am I? I'll take down anyone I have to. I just wish the memory of my nightmare would fade so I could focus and think. The owner of this house is at the edge of my mind, hidden behind anxiety screaming this place isn't safe. It's only after five minutes that I realize that I'm at Kwan's s house and that's only because his mother just walked in. I immediately get out of that stance, but I don't sit down.

"Relax, I won't hurt you," she says.

"You never told me what I can call you last night," I say to change the subject.

"Oh! I'm sorry. You can call me Brianna if you want to." Brianna? Huh, I would have thought that she would have had a foreign name as Kwan does. She must see the shock on my face because she says, "both my husband and I were born here in Amity Park. We simply named Kwan after Geoff's great grandfather." Geoff? That must be Kwan's dad. Still, those were definitely not the names I was expecting. I guess a little part of me was excited to see different county's naming traditions.

"That makes sense." I walk over to the dresser and get out a pair of black jeans, a black and silver version of my old shirt, and my hoodie. Brianna gets the hint and leaves me to get dressed. Kwan walks in when I only have pants on. I guess he's never heard of knocking. I mean, I get that it's his house, but hello? This room is occupied!

"Sorry, man." He's quick to close the door. At least I was wearing pants and not just underwear. That would have been embarrassing. I finish getting ready before going to find out what was so important that he didn't have time to knock. He's not even outside the door. He busts in on me half naked and now I have to go hunt his ass down. At least it isn't a long hunt. I find him at the top of the stairs.

"What was so damn important that you couldn't be bothered to knock?"

"Ok, one, language and two, breakfast is ready." I roll my eyes at that.

"Really? You could have knocked."

"Sorry."

"Whatever." It was practically a growl as it left my throat. 

"Danny, can you use your manners?" Where is this coming from? Oh, wait I wasn't exactly using my manners at Mr. Lancer's s place. I wonder why. Oh yeah, because everyone is butting into my business!

"Ok."

"Thank you." He didn't use his manners when he didn't knock. Only Jazz can get away with that without me holding onto it forever and that's only because she's my sister. He leads me to the kitchen and I see french toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and anything else you could think of. Man, this family gets the overachiever award of the year.

"We didn't know what you liked," Geoff sheepishly explains. Is he the one that made all this? It's a lot for just one person to have made. Maybe it was a family effort. I wish I had something like that.

"You didn't have to do this. Just letting me sleep here was enough."

"Nonsense! You are our guest and from what I hear, you have been through things that nobody ever should have gone through. Especially not a fifteen-year-old boy!" Brianna exclaims.

"I'm sixteen, actually. I guess it's hard to tell cause I don't drive my car. I find it easier to walk." Jazz left her car to me and since dad hopes that I'll use it to run away, he let me keep it. I prefer flying. I always have. I don't even have my license, there was no point in it.

"Oh! I thought that you were younger than Kwan because of your size. You definitely need to eat so that you can grow!"

"I didn't think I looked younger than I am; I think it's just that Kwan looks older than he is." I awkwardly stand there unsure of what to do.

"You can make your plate," Kwan whispers.

"I'll wait until everyone else has made theirs," I mumble in return. 

"You don't have to," Geoff cuts in.

"I know." I wait for them to make their plates, but Brianna apparently decided to make a plate for me because she hands me a plate with everything on it. "Thank you." I sit at the table next to Kwan. I wait until everyone else has sat down and starts eating before I eat a piece of bacon. Even if I was starving, I couldn't eat all of this. The unease swelling in my stomach is enough to squash my apatite anyway. Anxiety and bacon, that's enough to get me through the day.


End file.
